


The Crime

by Shonnyterra



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: AU, Crime Scene, Drabble, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-04
Updated: 2014-02-03
Packaged: 2018-01-11 02:58:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1167836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shonnyterra/pseuds/Shonnyterra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a small drabble of Will during a crime scene. Will uses his empathy to look to at a death. Jack speaks his mind to Will.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Will's Point of View

**Will**

_Outside Baltimore, Maryland,_

The snowy surroundings and wooden steps prepared him for what was to come. No other sign needed to remind him of the danger. It was the smell, the aura, the feel. All of it bothered him to the depths of his bones. The biting breeze and the overarching trees didn’t assist his sanity in this situation. Even the crows which surrounded the wooden house seemed to aid his lack of sanity.

His boots welled into the three inch snow that slowed down his steps. The snow falling was light and fluffy, leaving no trouble for his vision. Steps were methodical, each step had a specific purpose and each glance he made hoped to assist him in his decision making. The run down minivan to his right assured to him that the place was deserted. Lifting his eyes to the next sight was the set of planters on the ledge. They weren’t the conventional plant and again, showed all signs of neglect.

His next steps were crucial. Opening the door with ease, his fingers were clamped tightly on the rounded doorknob and swung it slowly. The first smell was meat. Roast Beef. His mouth watered to the thought of it; a classic meal which left him starving for more.

She approached him, confidence and little resistance. Her facial expression was a mix of fear and approval, as if approaching was beneficial. His next step was the conclusion. The conclusion which left the smell of roast beef less than attractive.

The knife drove deeply into her abdomen, slicing into as many organs as physically possible. The kill was meant to be fatal, in every way. No mercy. No regret. This kill was the last one and the one which he wanted to be best known for. Her body was a slab or meat to release his anger, to cleanse his soul.

Will’s eyes opened with his heart pounding. He could feel his blood pressure increase and sweat roll down his temple. _He meant to slaughter her,_ he recalls through a moment. Regaining his breath, Will turns to Jack, who is only steps from his backside. Will could feel the pressure, even if it has not been given down yet.

“Talk to me, Will” Jack slips his hands deep into his pockets while tilting a curious eye.

“She was his last. His steps were planned out when he killed her. He took pleasure in it, though…” Will swallows the lump in his throat. “He may have not been in a stable state of mind. Hungry. He felt hungry and needy. She was making his favourite. It affected his mind” His eyes wander towards Jack’s.

“So you think that his sister was expecting him?” Jack’s gaze grew deeper.

“I believe that she was hoping” Will’s hand skids through his brown curls.

“Hoping? Do you know if she knew he was coming or not, Will”

“No. He never decided to call, but someone may have told her”

“How do you know she didn’t get a call?”

“Because he didn’t want her to know. He planned for her to think he was gone for good. He wanted…” Will’s eyes began to fidget in anticipation. “wanted her to hate him. He wanted her to feel betrayed”

Jack’s silence seems to affirm Will’s hopes. Done. That was what Will wanted. Will waits until Jack makes his first moves away from the scene, bringing his three subordinates by his side. Will continues to watch Jack leave only to take one last look. The blood is scattered at the front door where he greeted his sister so kindly. The footsteps are large enough to represent a middle aged man, which is what he suspects.


	2. Freddie's Point of View

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie Lounds makes an investigation of her own. Taking her story straight to Tattle Crime and making her statement.

**Freddie**

_Outside Baltimore, Maryland,_

The crime scene was both horrific and tragic. Blood was flowing across the floor as if the scene had just happened. There was a momentary shiver that Freddie felt, but brushed it off as easily as she had to any other crime scene. They rarely made her more than shiver, no fear or disgust when gazing upon them. Each was different, but all made the same amount of attention in headlines.

She kept her phone against her breast. She had mastered all forms of stealth, whether it be making it to a crime scene of snapping a quick picture for Tattle Crime. And just as she was good at stealth, she was even better at manipulation. It was her specialty and it rarely ever failed.

Her thoughts faded when she noticed Will Graham. His hands were covered by beige coloured glove, his glasses recently adjusted and his brown curls ever so…curly. The description made her smirk. She wanted to talk to him. Though, talking wasn’t exactly what she did. Rather _tease_ Will Graham was a better term.

Glancing to her right, she noticed a constable who was watching the caution taped line closely. Closely, but not enough to not be distracted by the infamous Freddie Lounds. She stepped towards him with a jolly sway.

“Excuse me. Are you the constable in this town? I was curious as I was a good friend of the victim’s mother” Freddie’s voice was a song in comparison to the constable weary stare.

“Yes” He responded.

“I was curious if the scene was so bad that the FBI came. Was it just she that was killed?” Freddie’s green eyes peer further with her messy curls bouncing.

“It was only her. I’m very sorry for your loss” The constable glanced over to Freddie, who had already slid her phone back into her coat pocket.

“Thank you. She was such a good girl too. So delightful and…kind” Freddie sighed as she turned to the scene. “I sure hope the FBI find the killer, don’t you?”

“Of course”

“Thank you again for the clarification. I am forever in your debt” Freddie’s smile only came after she turned her back to the man.

She began to take steps back towards her black car. She would have to post this soon. Knowing that before she arrived, her Macbook was already stationed in the passenger seat. She unlocked the driver’s side door to slide herself right in.

In a snap, the phone cord was ripped from the bottom pocket of her messenger bag and connected within the USB port. It was barely a second before the small window opened, containing the files of her phone. Her fingers like lightening, the opened the “Photos” file and pulled out the picture to her desktop. This was the easy part.

Next, the illustrating and creation of the article. It would need enough detail to be creditable, but not too graphic as to sound bias. She kept her chin up as her fingers whizzed away through typing.

“Baltimore Sweetheart Dead…previous model…up and coming motivational speaker…” Freddie’s eyes were attentive while she spoke her thoughts through dull whispers.

Her words became facts, and the facts became the article. All she wanted to do was present the facts. No one ever did that. No one but Freddie. In a way, she reminded herself of both a tyrant and a liberator. Obliterating censorship and bringing out the truth to all of the people who paid attention to her blog. She reminded herself of this, and no regret would ever seep through.

“Wonderful” She slide the picture into its appropriate box and finished the 350 word article with her contact information. “Let the games begin~”


End file.
